274 AC, Beyond the Wall
Before I could end the conversation, the tent's entrance flap was pulled aside.
Everyone looked in that direction.
A man entered — slim, with a balding skull, a face too cunning for an ordinary soldier, and a smile that irritated more than it explained anything. His armor was made of various elements — as if each piece came from a different battle and a different corpse. But he moved confidently. Like someone who always lands on their feet.
"Forgive my delay, Lord Stark" — he said with a slight bow. — "Special Unit Captain Patches."
I raised my hand.
"Wait, don't say a word, my friend," — I interrupted calmly, looking him in the eyes. — "You didn't lie, not once. You were detained in the matter."
Patches smiled wider, as if he had heard his favorite song.
"Skagos," — he said, spreading his arms.
Willam raised an eyebrow.
"And what did they do?"
Patches tilted his head slightly, and something between amusement and pity appeared in his eyes.
"I'm inclined to admit — I could have been clearer," — he said with an exaggeratedly contrite tone. — "But I didn't lie. Well... if you're really that naive — then nothing."
He made a short pause, then added with satisfaction:
"Because I caught them."
No one spoke. Patches looked around, as if waiting for applause. When it didn't come, he shrugged.
"Exactly fifty," — he drawled. — "They didn't arrive by boat. They came from the south. They thought no one would see them. But I saw."
He paused for a moment, straightened theatrically, then continued:
"They were sneaking towards the cave. The one where we keep supplies and some equipment. But they didn't know that I had previously ordered a pit to be dug there — deep, covered with a net and a layer of snow."
Patches dropped into a classic squat. He rested his elbows on his knees, folded his hands as if in prayer or poker, tilted his head slightly, and the smile never left his face.
"As if the gods themselves were guiding them," — Patches replied with amusement. — "The first six fell immediately. The rest wanted to catch them and fell with them."
I nodded.
"Good. Go interrogate him and find out why they came here."
Patches straightened up and saluted with exaggerated solemnity.
"Of course, boss. I'll bring good news quickly."
He turned and headed towards the exit.
Without waiting for Patches to leave, I looked at the rest.
"Well, maybe the Skagos will tell us why people are disappearing here."
I turned to the wildling — once an enemy, now a resident of the North — and smiled slightly, but without jokes in my eyes.
"Now you're one of us. A resident of the North. Do you perhaps know where other free folk settlements are?"
He nodded slowly, not yet understanding where I was going.
"We'll set out to find them," — I finished. — "Before the cannibals do to them what they did to the others. We must save them. You saw that the old gods sent us. They even made the wolves give me a puppy."
"Woooof. Woooof. Woooof."
As if in confirmation, Fenrir barked. As if he really knew when to.
The wildling began to think intensely about what I said. About the words of the gods. About the wolves. About salvation. I saw his gaze moving over the faces sitting around, stopping at Fenrir, returning to me.
He swallowed saliva. Slowly. Like someone who doesn't yet know whether he's taking an oath or simply acknowledging a fact that has long since been accomplished.
"I know such places," — he said quietly. — "Hidden valleys. Caves near the ice border. Some are abandoned... probably abandoned. But I can lead to them. Point out where they are."
I nod.
"Good. We'll take some New People of the North with us. That will speed up the execution of our task."
I paused for a moment, then added coldly:
"After the news about these cannibals, I want to get out of here as soon as possible. Let them beat each other up if they must. We have our own things to do. We'll divide into three groups. One stays in Hardhome and guards it, the second goes with me to finish conquering the tribes, and the last will be responsible for transport and communication between groups."
I looked around at the gathered.
"Okay. Now let's go see what information the Skagos have."
I exited the tent first. Howland and the wildling followed me without a word. The snow underfoot was packed, frozen, creaking evenly with each step.
We walked between rows of tents, passing patrolling people. No one spoke. Everyone knew where we were heading.
We passed the main guard line and moved along the path leading towards the old caves — the same ones that just a few days ago served as a storage area and now as a temporary prison.
Fenrir walked beside me, step by step. His ears were raised.
And then we heard it.
A scream.
First short, cut off, as if someone had muffled it. Then a second — longer, more piercing. And then another. Sharp, full of pain. And silence.
I stopped. Howland stopped too. The wildling took an uncertain step back.
Fenrir growled.
I looked towards the caves.
Without saying anything, we continued carefully, approaching and beginning to cautiously avoid the trap.
It was clear that someone had previously adjusted its edges — maybe Patches, maybe one of his men.